14. Chapter 14
Chapter 14
Sutton
F all calves start to arrive over the next week. Of the pregnant cows, fifteen are heifers who haven’t delivered before and the other thirty-five are from experienced cows. About a third of the herd isn’t expecting. Heifers sometimes have a harder time, due to size among other things, so we monitor closely for any signs of an issue.
My parents head to Dallas on Tuesday to spend a few days with Sammi and her family. I don’t know if my dad has shared our discussion regarding the ranch with Mama. If it hasn’t come up yet, the drive to and from Dallas will give them the perfect time to talk uninterrupted.
The rest of the crew and I are busy enough that I push everything out of my mind until my parents return. Terrence agreed to set up a time for Dad and me to tour the property as soon as we’re ready.
When I head into The Big House at the end of the day on Friday, my mom is talking on the phone with someone. The creak of the oven door opening greets me as I close the front door before something heavy hits the counter.
“Thank you for calling to let me know…Ok, dear. Have a good night.” The oven door slams. “Michael?”
“It’s me, Mama.” I round the corner .
“Oh, Sutton.” Her eyes crinkle in the corners as her expression lifts. I kiss the top of her head before heading to the sink to wash up. “How was your week?”
“The usual.”
She smirks as she pulls plates down and begins serving food. The front door closes again as I fill three glasses with water.
When my dad enters the kitchen, he presses a kiss to Mom’s temple. “Smells good.”
Her soft smile and pink cheeks shouldn’t be the norm after all of their years together. Or should they?
“Everything okay?” I eye the phone to clarify my question.
She waves me off. “Oh, yes. It was the photographer for the Fall Festival. She’s a sweet girl, but something came up so she can’t attend.” Mama’s inability to sit still led to her heading the committee for the Fall Festival. It’s not the biggest event in town, but it comes close.
We seat ourselves in the adjacent dining room. The leaves aren’t inserted in the round maple table currently, but come Thanksgiving when Mom prepares her grandest meal of the year, they will be. My grandfather built the ten-person table, among several other pieces of furniture throughout the house. Growing up, he taught me the art of woodworking and I’ve continued building pieces when I have the time. A small shop near the back of the house is the perfect place to escape to.
Mama gives me every detail of their trip. What my dad and I lack in words, my mom and sister make up for ten-fold. She whips out photos of the trio on her phone to accentuate the stories.
“Look at her sweet little face!” I’m not sure if it’s really as much to show me or as an excuse for her to admire them again herself. She hardly turns the phone my way and tears line her eyes. “Hasn’t she grown so much?” She’s still not looked up.
It’s true, Viviane has grown since I saw them all last. But I can’t help studying the beating heart of our family. I never realized how much she inspired Sammi’s passion for life and family. That drive to be the best for her loved ones is likely what fueled the determination Sammi needed to live through her and Viviane’s traumatic birth experience.
“She’s a cutie.” I grin over my niece when my mom looks up at me. “She looks like Justin.”
My dad eats in comfortable silence until she’s gone through all hundred photos on her phone. Finally, she sets it down and starts eating. Her food must be cold by now.
“Your mom and I discussed your plans for the ranch.” I look between them. My mom nods through a bite.
“It sounds like you worked really hard on everything,” she says. Her proud smile has returned and she sets her fork down. “I have faith that you will be successful with whatever you set out to achieve here.”
Even though I want to tell her things aren’t that simple, I know she knows. Before I started helping my dad as a teenager, my mom took on plenty of responsibility over the physical and mental burden of the ranch. “Thanks, Mama.”
“Like I told Daddy, you two do whatever you think is right.”
“You may end up with a kitchen maid soon,” I tell her with a wink.
She giggles. “I don’t need a kitchen maid.”
“Not yet,” Dad adds.
Mama moves food around on her plate. Her fork clinks against the ceramic .
“Your breakfast crew is small compared to what it could be.” I give her a pointed look. “If we maintain the same ratio of employees, you’ll need another table.”
She assesses the room with a smile.
Dad and I stand, our chairs scooting loudly over the floor. “What do you have going on this week?” I hold my hand out for her plate.
A sheepish grin crosses her face and she holds the plate up for me to take. My dad rounds the table, giving her a kiss and thanking her for dinner before he disappears down the hallway. She follows me into the kitchen and starts rinsing dishes.
“I’m going to be working on prep for the Fall Festival. That means you and Daddy need to stay out of my way.” If only I could take her stern voice seriously. I can almost smell the jams cooking and breads baking.
“Let me know if you need anything.” I kiss her on the head.
“Sutton.” She grabs a towel from the counter to dry her hands and bumps the dishwasher closed with her hip. “Don’t work your life away.”
My brows furrow as I halt in the doorway. “I’m going out tonight.”
She snaps lids onto the leftover containers spread on the counter and opens the refrigerator, placing them neatly on the shelves. “That’s not what I mean.”
Shuffling condiment bottles fill a few moments while neither of us speak. We both know the condiment bottles haven’t moved recently. “Come to the Fall Festival. Maybe you’ll meet someone.” The last part is said quietly.
“Mama—"
Knowing I’m going to protest, she stands suddenly and gives me a look I know better than to argue with. “How are you supposed to fall in love if you spend all of your time with cows?”
My eyes bug and I release a full belly laugh .
“Just think about it.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Thirty or not, I know when not to sass Mama.
She flips the light off on her way out of the kitchen and I swear she mumbles something about pretty babies as she heads down the darkened hallway to my parents’ bedroom.
Cool night air greets me when I head out to my truck later. I roll the window down and embrace the reprieve from the grueling sun. After a busy week, a few beers with Nick is just what I need. Never mind that Saturdays are my least favorite time to visit The Spur. Second least. Fridays are the worst.
Available parking in the first row is a surprise since everybody in town seems to be here tonight. I am not looking forward to fights and bullshit, so I plan to have a few beers and get the hell out of Dodge.
A cold rain begins to trickle down. As I reach the door, it becomes a steady shower and squeals burst out behind me. Knowing someone is about to be drenched, I pull the door open wide and press my foot against the bottom of the door, stepping aside. Two women are hightailing it across the parking lot with their heads ducked, squeezing between my truck and a long set of motorcycles. An abrupt gust of wind whips through the parking lot, splattering all three of us with ice-cold raindrops as it blows. One of the women shrieks.
“Thanks!” she yells over her shoulder as she barrels past. I wonder if she’s rethinking her dark denim shorts .
Her friend is moving a tad slower. She pushes her windblown hair out of her face as she passes. Her laugh and bright smile greet me over her shoulder when she turns to say something.
Maci.
She stares back at me, her face nearly glowing, and whispers a thank you.
My heart stutters awkwardly. I lick my lips and give her a stupid nod because she’s the last person I expected to see tonight. And also because while I assumed Happy Maci would be beautiful, she’s intoxicating.
A light wash denim jacket covers a white dress with flowers on it, cinched around the middle with a brown belt. She reminds me of a 90s country chick-flick my sister watched when we were kids.
I can’t pull my eyes from her bottom lip as she bites it. It’s doing things to me it shouldn’t.
“Sutton.” She sounds as surprised as me.
I clear my throat. “Hey. How are you?”
Her eyes flick to the pavement then back to me. “Better. Thank you.” She sounds genuine.
“Good.” I look behind her into the dark bar for a moment. “Can I—"
“Come on!” Her friend returns to the door, yanking her through. “We’re going to miss it!”
“Ok!” A playful laugh escapes her and she waves at me as she’s pulled inside. For a few seconds, I’m rooted to the doorway with the wind throwing icy water at me, watching her disappear into the dark.
Shaking my head like an idiot, I step inside, allowing the door to close. A mammoth of a bouncer sits on a tiny stool not far from the entrance. He eyes me like he’s seen the entire exchange and thinks I’m in way over my head. He’s right.
“Heyyyy. Suttonnnn!” Nick calls from a table not far off .
Copperhead Road fills my ears as I approach. “Hey.” Without trying, I’m distracted, scanning the crowd.
“You good?” Nick asks from my peripheral, looking around the bar to find what I’m searching for. Drinking or not, Nick is always someone you want on your side. And not just because he’s a Texas Game Warden. He’s a solid guy with a good moral compass and has an uncanny ability to talk people down.
Movement on the dance floor catches my attention. Maci and her friend dance wildly on the far side of the room, without a care in the world. Her dress almost glows blue underneath the neon lights.
Of course . Her friend thought they were going to miss the popular line dance.
I grin. “Yeah.” Turning, I clap Nick on the shoulder. “I’m good.”
Nick looks at me briefly, his brows pulling together, then follows my line of sight to the two dancers. “Oh, damn.” He laughs and returns the brotherly gesture.
Maci turns to her friend and laughs heartily. Her face is lit up like the Fourth of July, happiness emanating from her.
I shake my head and laugh. I already know I’m not getting out of a mini-interrogation.
“How you been?” I give him my full attention.
He takes a swig of his beer. “Good, man. The usual. Coming up to the end of archery season.”
“I haven’t made it out yet.”
“You don’t have long left. Oh man, yesterday I was out checking licenses and came across this group out past Henry Bridge.” Nick carries on with his story and I divide my attention between him and Maci. The song ends and the two women make their way off the dance floor, arms linked. They’re both all smiles as they order.
In no time, a biker in a black vest approaches. He has a Prospect patch on the back. Neither seem to see him as they chat before Maci’s friend heads off through the crowd. I lose sight of her, keeping my eyes trained on Maci.
The guy slips into the space previously occupied by the brunette, hovering over Maci in a way that has my jaw clenching. She stiffens and stands taller. One hand reaches out for her drink on the bar top and her eyes flit around the room. She sips her drink.
“Sutton?”
“Yeah.” I don’t take my eyes off Maci as I respond to Nick. The biker leans comfortably against the bar top. My frustration builds over her tense body and uncomfortable stance. On their next sweep, her eyes land on me.
The man seems to call her attention back, but I’m over this bullshit. Something is going on and I’m going to find out what it is. Fights at this bar are a dime a dozen and somehow I’ve stayed out of most. But if he so much as blinks at her wrong, I’ll lay his ass out.
“I’ll be right back, looks like I’ve got some catching up to do.” I gesture to the dark bottle he holds and grin as I head to the bar. “Watch my six.”
“Always.” Nick salutes with his beer.